


In the Boot Room

by moonflowers



Series: Daisy has all the luck [1]
Category: Downton Abbey
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Kissing, M/M, Oh Daisy you minx
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-25
Updated: 2013-11-25
Packaged: 2018-01-02 16:03:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,344
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1058785
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moonflowers/pseuds/moonflowers
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy sees something she shouldn't have.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Boot Room

**Author's Note:**

> Including the real star of s4, The Boot Room!  
> Yeah... I had a lot more of this planned out, but it turned into a Daisy/Alfred centred thing instead, so I sort of stopped.  
> I'm sleepy, I hope this makes sense.

Daisy was a simple girl. She knew this was true because she didn’t have grand aims in life; like to marry a man with a title, or to own diamonds, and nightclothes made of silk and lace. She knew it because she was a kitchen girl who would probably never amount to much, and that was just fine by her. But most of all, she knew it because it was what everyone always told her. After a while, it was easier to believe them. But just because Daisy was a simple girl, it by no means meant complicated things couldn’t happen to her.

She was late in getting to bed that night; she’d been playing around with the electric mixer again, determined to get to grips with it properly as soon as possible. Times were changing fast, and for once she didn’t want to be left behind. Besides, she’d noticed Ivy practising with it earlier, and the last thing she wanted was for Ivy to be better with it than her. She’d just left the kitchen, humming to herself and secretly feeling very proud of the lemon mousse she’d whipped up, when she heard a scuffling sound coming from the boot room. She thought for a moment about waking Mrs Patmore, in case there was something amiss, but then she’d feel a right fool if it were nothing more than a mouse. And if there were one thing Daisy could do well, it was getting rid of unwanted mice. Grabbing a ladle from its hook, just in case it was in fact a rodent that needed squishing, she stepped quietly up to the boot room door. It was open a crack, dim light coming through, and drawing her closer as though she were the unknowing heroine of a fairy tale. Frowning, she came to halt just in front of the gap, ducking a little so she could peer through it.

It was Thomas and Jimmy.

She sagged with relief, smiling to herself, and was about to push open the door and tell them both to get to bed instead of lurking around in the boot room late at night and scaring innocent kitchen girls half to death. But she stopped when she caught sight of Jimmy’s face. He looked drawn and tired, as he had been more and more often lately. But on top of that he looked hot and uncomfortable, his face flushed and a frown across his brow as he leant against the table. Thomas had his back turned slightly to her; she couldn’t see his face. Daisy bit her lip in indecision. Jimmy looked awfully upset... perhaps they’d rather she didn’t butt in, if they were talking about something important. She had just made up her mind to leave them be and go to bed, when Thomas spoke:

“But after all this time Jimmy? I thought – I didn’t think you’d ever – What I mean to say is, are you certain?”

Jimmy rolled his eyes and looked even more uncomfortable, if that was possible. “Of course I’m bloody certain. You think I haven’t given it any thought?”

“That’s not what I meant,” Thomas sighed and ran a hand through his hair, “It’s just – after last time...” he trailed off, and Daisy wondered what on earth they could be talking about. Last time what?

“I don’t want to think about last time!” Jimmy all but shouted, and Daisy nearly dropped her ladle in surprise.

“Keep your voice down you daft bugger,” Thomas patted at his pockets, “I need a smoke.”

“Like heck you do,” Jimmy hissed, and put a hand on Thomas’ forearm to stop him lighting up, “that’s an awful excuse.” He looked down to where his hand gripped Thomas’ sleeve and quickly pulled it away. “Look, can we just talk about this. Please.”

“I don’t see what there is to talk about.” He made to turn towards the door. And Daisy. “It’s a ridiculous idea, Jimmy. You know it can’t be like that, so what’s the use in trying?”

Jimmy snorted. “You didn’t seem to think it was ridiculous when it were _you_ who wanted _me.”_

“Jimmy please,” Thomas said quietly, and Daisy didn’t think she’d ever heard him sound so broken, “I can’t do all this again.”

“Oh, but you drive me _mad,_ Mr Barrow,” Jimmy breathed and grabbed Thomas by his shoulders, pulling him close and smashing their mouths together.

_What?_

Daisy put a hand over her mouth to smother her gasp of shock, the other gripping the ladle so hard it hurt her. Thomas and Jimmy... were kissing?  
And it wasn’t the kind of kissing she’d seen in the films, neither. Nor was it like the gentle kisses she’d seen the family upstairs give each other, on weddings or special occasions. They were always tidy and quick, controlled and perfectly acceptable to anyone who may have been watching. This was none of those things.  
Their kiss was messy and rough; she could see their tongues, and a fleck of spit on Jimmy’s chin. Thomas’ hands were gripping Jimmy’s shirt in a way that would leave it severely wrinkled, and it looked like he would never let him go. Daisy wasn’t sure how long she stood there, hunched over at a crack in the door, watching the two men kiss. The voice in her head, which sounded unnervingly like Mrs Patmore, was screaming at her to stop looking and go to bed. It was wrong, unnatural; illegal in the eyes of God and the law. It was meant to be disgusting, repulsive. But it was like her feet were stuck to the floor, and her eyes stuck to the two men who were kissing and shouldn’t be. This, she thought vaguely, was probably one of those things Mrs Patmore said she wouldn’t understand. And the cook was right – she didn’t understand – but she wasn’t disgusted either.  
She couldn’t look away. Her eyes followed their fingers as they popped open brass livery buttons, tugged on hair, their eyes fluttering open and closed as they nipped at each other’s lips. Then Jimmy did something that made Thomas moan, and it made Daisy’s stomach flip. She found herself wishing she’d seen what Jimmy had done to make the usually smooth and unflappable under butler make such a sound. Her neck was hot and her breathing heavy, and she was glad they were so caught up in each other, if only so that they wouldn’t notice her watching. They eventually broke their kiss, still clinging to each other, Thomas tipping his head back as Jimmy pressed messy kisses down his throat.

“Ugh,” Thomas groaned and squeezed his eyes shut, “Oh, my darling boy.”

His words made Daisy as weak in the knees as if he’d spoken them to her. Apparently, they’d had a similar effect on Jimmy; as he spun them around so it was Thomas pressed against the small table rather than himself, and stuck his hand down Thomas’ trousers.

She couldn’t exactly say why, but for some reason this breach of clothing was where the line was crossed for Daisy. She heard Thomas gasp at Jimmy’s touch, but she saw no more, as she finally managed to wrench herself from the crack in the door and stumble away up the stairs. She hoped she managed to do so quietly, though she doubted the footman and the under butler would have noticed anyway, so lost they were in their embrace.

She scurried up the stairs and along to her room, half in a daze and somehow hoping the two of them wouldn’t get caught. She opened the door to the pokey room she shared with Ivy, to find the kitchen maid very much awake still and sitting on her bed, running a brush through her hair.

“There you are,” she rolled her eyes with a smile, “I were starting to wonder if you’d gotten lost.” Daisy said nothing for a moment, leaning against the closed door and trying to keep up with the thoughts galloping through her head like his lordship’s horses. “Daisy?” Ivy repeated.

“I’m fine,” she managed to force out, striding across the room and setting the ladle neatly on the chest of drawers like it belonged there.

“Daisy...?”

“Mmm?”

“Why have you brought that ladle up here?”

“I...” For a moment, Daisy wasn’t sure if she should tell Ivy what she had seen or not. But then she realised that she simply had to tell someone, or she’d explode. And she’d die of shame if she had to speak of such things to Mrs Hughes, or God forbid, Mr Carson. So Ivy it was. “Can you keep a secret?”

“What?” Ivy was looking at her like she’d announced she was in fact Lady Mary in disguise. 

“I’ve seen something,” whispered Daisy, hurrying over to perch on the end of Ivy’s bed. Gossip made friends of them all, it seemed. “I’ve seen something that I shouldn’t have, and I don’t know how much longer I can keep it to myself.”

“Oh,” said Ivy with a grin and a twinkle in her eye, “I see.”

Daisy really doubted that she did, when she barely understood it herself. “Can I trust you? It’s just... I don’t know what the others would say, if they knew.”

Ivy rolled her eyes, “Of course you can Daisy. I know we haven’t exactly been friends,” – bit of an understatement really, after Alfred and everything else – “but I’d like to think we can still talk, when it comes down to it.”

“Right...” Daisy swallowed, and it was now or never.

“Well, spit it out!” hissed Ivy with a grin verging on frightening, grasping Daisy’s knee.

“I – I saw Jimmy kissing... someone. In the boot room.”

“You what?” said Ivy, suddenly not looking quite so enthusiastic. “Who?”

“I don’t know if – I –” she wrung her hands, face growing hot again. “It – it were Thomas.”

Ivy stared at her for what felt like a year. Daisy stared right back, not sure what else she could add to make it clearer. It was Ivy who managed to think up something to say first. “Mr Barrow? Are – are you sure?”

“Yes,” Daisy said with a nod. “I’m sure.” She hesitated a moment before shrugging. In for a penny, in for a pound. “They were arguing about something,” she tried to remember, but it was already starting to escape her, like a dream after you wake up. “They were growling and spitting at each other like a couple of cats. I – I didn’t really know what they were on about. Then Thomas was about to leave, but Jimmy grabbed him and then they – they were kissing.” She swallowed, bunching her fingers tight in her skirts. “It weren’t like any kiss I’d seen before; in the films, and such. It were... it were almost angry, like they were trying to hurt each other.”

“Go on,” Ivy whispered, enthralled. 

“And – and I tried so hard to leave, but I couldn’t look away. They just kept on kissing. Then Thomas – Thomas called Jimmy his _darling,”_ she whispered the word like there was something dirty about it, “and Jimmy put his hand...” she trailed off, suddenly uncomfortable. “I don’t think I want to say any more.”

“I can’t believe it,” said Ivy, wide-eyed.

Daisy still couldn’t either. “It made me feel so strange,” she said, very self-conscious and keen to find out if what she’d relayed had made Ivy feel as out of sorts as it had made her feel. “I felt all –“ she struggled to find the words, “I felt all warm inside. And like I was nervous in my stomach; it felt all jumpy and mixed up. But good, at the same time.”

“I see,” said Ivy, though it was clear that she didn’t. “I don’t know what to say,” she bit her lip. “I mean, I’ve heard of men who – who like other men more than girls,” she blushed bright red but struggled on with what she wanted to say, “but I’ve never really believed it.”

Daisy nodded in agreement. “I don’t really understand it...” 

“It’s not natural.”

“I s’pose not.”

“A man should love a woman, and that’s that.” She sounded sure enough, but Daisy noticed her frowning.

“They – they looked like they were so happy though.”

“I thought you said they were shouting at each other.”

“No. A different sort of happy, I think.”

Ivy shrugged, her puzzled expression replaced by one of mischief, eyes bright with the thought of gossip. “Who’d have thought it though? I mean, Jimmy’s such a terrible flirt! You’ve seen what he’s like with me, in the kitchen.”

“Yes, I have,” said Daisy, shooting her a dirty look, not able to forget how Jimmy and Alfred had always been falling over themselves to get Ivy’s attention. Though perhaps Jimmy’s efforts hadn’t been as sincere as she’d thought. She didn’t say that, though.

“Mr Barrow danced with me, once,” she said instead. “He can be so nice, when he wants to be. Though sometimes he seems a little too nice for it to be true.”

Ivy snorted, “Mr Barrow? Nice? I’ll believe that when I see it.”

“Well you believed he were being... _nice,_ to Jimmy without having to see it for yourself.” Ivy didn’t say anything in reply, and Daisy suddenly didn’t feel much like talking any more. “Just don’t tell anyone about it, alright?” She said as she rose from Ivy’s bed and started to change.

“’Course not,” she sniffed. “’Night, Daisy.” 

“’Night.” Ivy shut off the small lamp next to her bed, leaving Daisy in the semi-darkness as she readied for bed.

It felt like it took an age for Daisy to fall asleep that night. Her sheets felt too heavy and scratchy, her skin too tight and hot. She closed her eyes and she could see them still; Thomas and Jimmy, wrapped around each other in the boot room. The last thought that crossed her mind as she finally drifted off that night, was that she perhaps wasn’t as simple as people thought.


End file.
